British Slang
by Rainbow Volcano
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, as an All-American, American-born, American-raised teenager, is not very well versed in the complex art-form of British slang words. So when Arthur Kirkland, his good friend and very British classmate, asks casually if he fancies anyone, Alfred responds with something not entirely correct, but still earnest and adorable. Highschool!AU USUK Oneshot


Hello, Everyone! Rainbow here for another oneshot! What's that you say? Where's The Parent Traptalia? Oh, right! Yeah, I should really be writing that instead of writing new stories, huh? Heh heh...

Anyways, this story was inspired by the phrase "I fancy you" and the hilarious false interpretations that a non-British person could make. Just a short fluff piece, with a "translation" at the end of the story. Enjoy!

Oh, and if any British readers out there notice I've done something wrong, please feel free to correct me! I'm afraid the internet was my teacher, and as amazing as the Great Wizard Google is, he can only do so much.

* * *

As the groggy students began filing in to the classroom, Arthur pulled out his English book and began to read quietly at his seat. Their first period teacher always arrived late, and while some used that time to sleep in, Arthur liked to arrive on time every day and took pleasure in a few extra minute to prepare himself. 7:30am was a rough time for most students to be prepared to learn, but Arthur always was more of an early bird and enjoyed the quiet tranquility that accompanies early mornings. Though his quiet time would soon be interrupted.

Frantically, Alfred Jones whirled into the room, papers billowing out behind him. He dumped all his stuff on his desk before leaping across the classroom to Arthur's desk. He threw himself into the seat next to Arthur, face scrunched up in confusion. Arthur sighed, the beginnings of a scowl forming on his face.

"Dude. Arthur. I seriously need your help," Alfred began, bouncing one leg up and down impatiently. Arthur nonchalantly flicked to the next page in his book without so much as looking up.

"I'm all ears," he replied dully. Alfred frowned.

"I'm serious! This is important! I know you like your quiet time in the morning, but I need your advice! Come on, man! Friends are supposed to help each other out!" Alfred whined, tugging on Arthur's sleeve. Irritation overwhelming him, Arthur carefully placed his bookmark in his book. Then promptly slammed it on his desk, shoving off Alfred's grabby hands in the process.

"What in God's name is _so_ important it couldn't have waited until after class?" he demanded, turning towards the American with a glare.

"Shh! Jeez, do ya have to be so loud?" Alfred asked, glancing nervously around to see if they'd caught anyone's interest. Luckily, their classmates were used to his and Arthur's comedy routine. Arthur grumbled at the hypocrisy of Alfred's question before reluctantly agreeing to stay relatively quiet.

"Okay, so I'll start at the beginning. I got home last night and Mattie was acting really weird, like extra weird. I mean, he's a Canadian exchange student so of course he's weird, but last night he was beyond weird. He kept doing this thing where he would look off into the distance and sigh all the time, and then he would sorta snap back to reality. And like he was humming this weird song for no reason, and he just kept humming the same words over and over, but I know he knows the whole song, so why didn't he sing it more? And—get this—he started worrying about his appearance! I mean, people like you do that all the time, but for me 'n Matt we just throw on whatever's clean and comfortable. But this morning he wanted to make sure he looked extra nice! And he doesn't even have a presentation or a concert or anything! What's going on!? Arthur! What's happening to him!?"

For a moment, Arthur stared at his friend in sheer disbelief. How was it possible that someone so obsessed with Disney movies and cliché romance stories was so incredibly oblivious?

"You truly don't know?" he asked, almost not sure if he could believe it. Worry crossed Alfred's face.

"What? Is it some kind of brain disease? Is he going to be okay!?" Arthur shook his head, but allowed a small amused smile. Beneath Alfred's stupidity, he was sincerely concerned for his friend.

"No, not at all. He hasn't lost the plot. Matthew's going to be just fine."

"You mean he's not sick or anything?"

"Well, not in the way you should be concerned of. But yes, I'd say he is suffering from a type of sickness. Lovesickness." Alfred raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Lovesickness? Really!?"

"I'm no expert, but yes, that seems to be the most probable outcome." Alfred relaxed in his seat, leaning back in the chair. He took a moment to drink it all in before laughing at himself.

"To think, all this time he's just had a crush on someone! Man, that's a relief! Can you imagine if it was something dangerous?" Alfred laced his fingers together behind his head and chuckled. Arthur shook his head in bewilderment and amazement. Alfred was truly an intriguing subject.

Around sometime last year, Arthur had noticed his growing feelings for Alfred—feelings of attraction, and not friendship. He'd dropped plenty of hints, but the blasted American was too dense to notice a thing. Arthur decided to take a bit of a risk, in hopes of at least getting Alfred closer to associating the ideas of "romance" and "Arthur Kirkland" together.

"While we're on the subject, is there anyone you fancy?" Alfred dropped his arms, turned to Arthur, and tilted his head to the side in confusion. Anyone he fancies? How exactly do you "fancy" someone? Make them fancier?

"Uh…what?"

"You heard me! Don't make be bloody ask it again!" he shouted, crossing his arms and looking down with a hint of red dusting his cheeks. Alfred, for one, was absolutely dumbfounded, but he decided to take a stab at it anyways.

"You mean, like… people who I think are fancier than me? Well, gosh, that's a lot of people! Mainly you, Arthur! I fancy you!"

I fancy you.

Damn it.

Arthur knew that the idiot had absolutely no idea what he was saying, but it made his heart skip a beat and triple in pace and squeeze and flip and all but stop in his chest. Not to mention that his face was on fire, and his stomach decided to become a gymnast. All from one stupid phrase. A phrase that wasn't even spoken with any true meaning behind the words! Why did it mean so much?

"Hey, dude? You okay? You look like you've got a fever or somethin'. Wait, don't tell me you're lovesick, too!" Alfred added, making a joke. Arthur, however, found it far too truthful to be funny.

"No, you git. I asked if there was someone you were interested in, you know, r-romantically. And when you said, well…" Arthur trailed off, determined to burn a hole in his desk with his eyes. Alfred sat in confusion for a while before finally piecing together the puzzle. Once he did, though Arthur couldn't see it, a blush sprouted on Alfred's face as well.

"O-oh. Heh, imagine that! You brits and your crazy slang terms! Always confusing us!" Alfred laughed sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck and nervously laughed a little longer before looking to his shoes.

"All right then, you barmpot. You've completely cocked-up and thrown a spanner in the works. I'd be gutted if I weren't so gobsmacked and frankly quite knackered! Blimey, it's like you're lost in the plot or and least become a nutter! You've got bits 'n bobs of yourself in dodgy, wonky shambles! You poxy daft cow can't even realize I'm an uphill gardener! Bob's your uncle!"

Before Alfred had time to even understand a fraction of that sentence, the bell rang for class to start. Reluctantly, he walked back to his desk. For the rest of the day, he kept wondering to himself why he felt so strange when he learned what "I fancy you" means.

* * *

A month passed since then, with Alfred no closer to his answer than he was before. What he did realize, however, is how much more time he spent really noticing Arthur. Since Arthur brought up the issue of fancying people, Alfred logically concluded that Arthur was also the root of his emotional turmoil. But in observing the British boy, he noticed quite a few things about him that he hadn't before.

Arthur walks leading with his head, and sometimes his chest too. Arthur thumbs his ridiculously thick eyebrows whenever he's thinking. Arthur smirks at the strangest things. Arthur's progression of amusement goes from smirk to smile to chuckle to laughter; all of which are wonderful to look at and even more wonderful to hear. Arthur's insults are well-crafted, even if Alfred can't understand most of them. Arthur is stubborn as a mule, but also surprisingly caring; like a mother bear. Arthur sometimes says cryptic things that almost feel like he's hinting at something more. And Arthur always makes him feel better whenever he's having a bad day.

Then one day, Alfred noticed some weird things going on. He started humming the same line of a song over and over even though he knew the rest of his words. He started staring off into the distance, thinking about the things he and Arthur did or would do together. He started—worst of all—worrying about his appearance. It was a Tuesday morning when Alfred was wondering if his orange socks really fit with his Captain America shirt, and if his permanent cowlick would behave like normal hair should. That was the last straw—he _had_ to find out what in the world was going on. And since his drifting daydreams featured Arthur, it was Arthur who he'd ask for advice.

That morning, Alfred whirled into class, dumped his papers down on his desk, and sat next to Arthur, who was reading his novel.

"Dude. Arthur. I seriously need your help," he began, impatiently bouncing his leg up and down.

"I'm all ears." As Arthur replied, he suddenly felt like the situation was very familiar. Yes, they'd definitely had this conversation before. But what was it about?

Suddenly, Alfred remembered. It was about Matthew's lovesickness. Quickly, Alfred ran through the symptoms in his head: random distant looks and sighs (Check!), humming/singing one repeated line of a song (Check!), suddenly worrying about his appearance (Check!). But what did that mean? Was… was he lovesick? Wait! But did that mean… he was… in love with Arthur?

His heart started beating rapidly in his chest, and his face lit up bright red. It all made sense. It all made sense! It all made sense, but… but how did Arthur feel? Alfred glanced over at his friend, who was still casually leafing through his book. Arthur kept reading for a while longer before he noticed the distinct lack of Alfred's voice. He looked up expectantly, only to see the boy bright red. Shocked, he lowered his gaze back to the book and tried to focus on the words.

After several tense seconds of debate, Alfred decided to ask Arthur about his symptoms. After all, maybe he was just exaggerating. Maybe he wasn't lovesick at all and had… some other disease. Okay, he didn't know what, but maybe Arthur would.

"Okay, so, um, this is kinda hard to say, but—"

"I'm listening."

"Good, that's good. Listening is good. Real swell. Use those ears." At this, Arthur officially stopped reading. Alfred sure was acting strange.

"Alfred, are you all right?" Arthur asked, putting his bookmark in the pages and setting his book on the desk. Alfred jolted and pressed his hands together.

"Yup! Yeah! I'm great! Never better! Totally amazing!" he lied, backing out of the situation.

"Somehow I find that incredibly hard to believe," Arthur noted, inching closer to inspect Alfred's face. Alfred jumped from the seat.

"Oh, would you look at that! Class is starting!"

"Not for another 12 minutes, you git. Now, tell me why you're acting so strangely." Alfred grabbed his own arm and rubbed up and down nervously.

"No reason," he began, but seeing Arthur's face he decided to reconsider, "Well, um… you." At this, Arthur's heart skipped a beat. Quickly, he glanced around the classroom and noted that far too many people were present to be having this conversation in their presence. Arthur swiftly grabbed Alfred's wrist and lead him into the back hallway where only custodians visited from time to time.

"All right, then. What specifically about me has your nickers in a twist?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms. Alfred audibly gulped. Not only was he frantically wondering how in the world he could both figure out and confess his feelings, he also was unsure what "nickers in a twist" meant.

"I can't—I don't—It's just—" Alfred grasped, suddenly breathless.

"Well? Go on," Arthur muttered, Alfred's nervousness affecting him as well. Just what in the world was so hard to admit that he couldn't do it to his friend of 5 years?

"I… I FANCY YOU!" Alfred blurted, loudly enough to be heard across the whole school. Like before, Arthur's heart skidded to a halt then proceeded to fly to the moon. No, this was just like last time. Alfred didn't even know what that meant, did he?...Did he?

"Wait, but, Alfred, do you even know—"

"Yes! I know what that means, okay? I don't get why, but you're really amazing and recently I just can't get enough of hanging around you! I keep having these weird daydreams where we're holding hands, and I'm buying you chocolates for Valentine's Day, and you try to make some for me but they're burnt but I eat them anyways, and we're snuggling on the couch, and we're—" Suddenly Alfred stopped. He hadn't quite realized it until he almost said it, but his most common and most favorite fantasy was the two of them kissing.

At this point, Arthur's face was rightfully on fire. All of Alfred's daydreams were similar to his daydreams (never mind the burning chocolate part, as that was embarrassing), and for the longest time Arthur longed for the American to see him in a romantic way. Here it was, finally, right in front of him. The only thing left was…

"Kissing." Alfred jolted at that word, shocked by the electricity it held. He nodded, and gulped. Arthur took a hesitant step forward, placing his hand oh-so-gently upon Alfred's cheek. He stood on his toes and began inching closer slowly, when Alfred closed the final distance between them and pressed their lips together.

As they pulled apart, Arthur could only think of one thing to say. And it was so terribly British that he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Alfred asked, slightly dazed. Arthur chuckled once again.

"Oh, it's nothing, love. That kiss was simply blinding."

"Is that a good thing?" Alfred asked hesitantly. Arthur laughed once more.

"Let's just say I hope every kiss with you is as blinding as that one was."

* * *

 **Rainbow's Thought Volcano:** Fluffy fluff is fluff. Also a bit of UKUS action, with Arthur taking the lead. I felt it would be more natural since he's been aware of his feelings for longer. I also REALLY wanted to make this K rated, but I just couldn't bring myself to remove the swear word.

 **Lost the plot=** Gone crazy

 **All right then, you barmpot. You've completely cocked-up and thrown a spanner in the works. I'd be gutted if I weren't so gobsmacked and frankly quite knackered! Blimey, it's like you're lost in the plot or and least become a nutter! You've got bits 'n bobs of yourself in dodgy, wonky shambles! You poxy daft cow can't even realize I'm an uphill gardener! Bob's your uncle! =** All right then, you idiot. You've completely screwed up and messed up everything. I'd be depressed if I weren't so amazed, dumbfounded and frankly quite tired! Jeez, it's like you're crazy or and least become a crazy person! You've got pieces of yourself in sketchy, crazy messes! You third-rate, dense idiot can't even realize I'm a homosexuel! There you go!

 **Nickers in a twist=** all worked up, uncomfortable, upset

 **Blinding=** Unexpectedly wonderful. Similar to 'brilliant' and 'great' but often less sarcastically said.


End file.
